The Reaccount of the Ranger Affair
by nomadic725
Summary: After eight years, LaBoeuf returns. However, because he hides a secret from Mattie, he puts her in danger.   Mattie/LaBoeuf because that's what should have happened.
1. The Return of the Ranger

It had been years since Mattie Ross had seen Texas Ranger LaBoeuf. From time to time, she hadn't been sure he was even alive.

But there he stood, tall in proud, in the middle of the post office, positively beaming at her. He smirked his overconfident grin at the profound surprise on her face.

"Mattie. It's been years. How old are ya' now? Seventeen? Eighteen?"

"Twenty-one. Twenty-two next month," Mattie retorted. Her lashed response caused LaBoeuf's crooked, cocky smile to seep deeper. "What are you? Eighty? Ninety?"

LaBoeuf seemed amused but narrowed his eyes in a playful, threatening way.

"I don't mean to interrupt, but may I help you?" The woman sitting at the scarred wooden desk asked. Mattie handed her the stack of letters her mother had sent her with. LaBoeuf mumbled an excuse about only coming into the post office because he saw Mattie come in.

Mattie sashayed out, her long skirt swishing behind her.

"Quite different from those pants, eh, Cookie?" LaBoeuf followed behind her.

Mattie rounded on him, about to make a witty retort or to at least tell him not to call her 'Cookie', but was stopped by the sight of red.

"You're bleeding," she murmured.

"Am I? Hunh. Wouldya look at that," LaBoeuf lifted a flap of clothing away to see a bullet graze on his side.

"What have ya' been doing?" Mattie demanded.

"This and that."

"This and that? What exactly, pray tell, is this and that, _Ranger_?"

LaBoeuf replied with another one of his cocky smirks.

"Ugh," Mattie sighed in frustration. "You're jus' the way I remember ya'." She tugged him by his arm over to a group of horses, recognizing his easily. He still rode the same one.

"Same horse?" she inquired.

"He's a good one. Like—let me put this in women terms—if ya' have a good…uh…chicken recipe—"

Mattie rolled her eyes.

"—ya' don't go getting rid of it too quickly."

"Can ya' ride?"

LaBoeuf looked at her like she had sprouted another two heads.

"With your…?"

"Mattie, I didn't even know I was bleeding until ya' pointed it out. Yeah. I think I can manage."

A man dressed suspiciously like LaBoeuf came galloping down the dirt path of the main street. He was riding on an equally suspicious spotted pony and doing suspicious things like calling 'LaBoeuf!' over and over again.

"Here!" LaBoeuf called. The man came to a stop in front of the two.

"Who…?"

"This here," LaBoeuf gestured toward the man, "is m' friend and fellow Ranger, Litrell. Litrell, this is an ol' friend of mine, Maggie Ross."

Litrell tipped his hat.

Should of seen that one coming.

There was a moment of awkward silence when no one talked. Mattie broke it.

"Do you have a place to stay? Are you staying here, in town?"

"We have ta—" Litrell started but LaBoeuf cut him off.

"If that's an invitation…"

"I never said that," Mattie shot back.

"Of course not. But if it was, we woulda said yes." The smirk was back. His eyes sparkled.

Mattie sighed. She exhaled the words, "Follow me, then," hopped on her chestnut horse, and rode to the east.

* * *

><p>Mattie Ross lived with her mother, brother, and sister on a small farm a few miles from town. The wooden house that they lived in was far from elegant, but it was stable, roomy, and made to last.<p>

Mattie's mother, Maggie, was quick to offer services to the Rangers. LaBoeuf saw her as an honest woman, with good morals.

The two Rangers got the loft area. Mattie would bunk with her mother and the younger children would sleep in front of the hearth.

Mattie climbed the ladder up into the loft with medical supplies. Litrell had gone off to who-knows-where doing who-knows-what for who-knows-why. LaBoeuf was lying on the bed, staring straight up at the wooden ceiling. He acknowledged her presence with a nod.

"Here to stitch ya' up," she told him.

His eyes widened a bit as she pulled out a rather threatening looking needle. He sat up. "Do ya' know how to use that thing?"

"Ya' don't think I jus' sat here learning chicken recipes for the past almost eight years, do ya'?"

"Well…"

"Trained by the town's doctor," she proclaimed proudly.

"Oh really?" he challenged. "What else have ya' learned?"

"Well, for one, I know how to fight."

"Hunh."

"Yeah. You'll never pin me down again. Now take up your shirt."

The Ranger obliged while continuing the conversation. "Never can spank you again, can I?"

Her eyes narrowed as she threaded the needle. "You _beat_ me."

LaBoeuf bit his lip as if regretting bringing up that little episode.

"Ya' ready?" Mattie asked.

LaBoeuf nodded.

She poked the needle through his skin in a fluid like pattern, receiving it on the other side with ease.

"Ya' done this before?" LaBoeuf asked.

"Yeah."

"Looks like ya' haven't gotten married all these years."

"Looks like," Mattie replied, pulling the thread a bit harder than necessary. LaBoeuf flinched but didn't make any objecting noise.

"Why not?" LaBoeuf asked, ignoring Mattie's pain warning to drop the subject.

"I guess I haven't had time."

"Learning how to fight blocking up the nights? Or too busy sewing people up?"

Mattie tugged the needle through, hard.

"Ow!" LaBoeuf protested.

"What? Did that hurt?"

"Yeah!"

"Good."

There was silence for a few moments. Neither dared speak. Mattie didn't know what to say. LaBoeuf was afraid of being more injured than before getting stitched up. Finally, Mattie spoke to the Ranger.

"Ya' know, maybe I woulda married someone if the right person came. Done," she tied a knot and cut the end off with a knife that she produced from who-knows-where.

He grabbed his shirt and tugged it over his head while saying, "and who's the right person?"

"Someone intelligent. Someone brave, with guts. Someone…well honestly none of your business. I have to go let the horses out."

"Mattie," LaBoeuf reached for her as she turned away and managed to grab her hand. "I'll be expecting you at the general store tonight."He dropped it. He thanked everything that she didn't protest. She just turned away and clinked down the ladder. LaBoeuf listened to her footfalls until they faded into silence.

* * *

><p><strong>It took a lot to resist naming Litrell 'Norris' or 'Walker'. Eastwood was quite tempting, too.<strong>

**Reviews are like big blunt needles. When people use them, they fix a bullet wound. If they stab aimlessly, they injure people. Please review. Fix the bullet wound!**


	2. Shell Shocked

Truman's General Store was located toward the West of the city. It sold basic items like any general store, but it also serviced the people of the town with boarding and a restaurant. LaBoeuf had suggested Truman's because Litrell had advised him that they had good pie and the saloon wasn't very classy.

So LaBoeuf clinked down the street with all of his chiming clothing and somewhat ridicules spurs. He was trying to waste time, looking into store windows that held no interest to him.

"LaBoeuf!" a man called from behind him. LaBoeuf turned around. It was Richard Harper.

Harper was, by no means, LaBoeuf's friend. In fact, Harper had tried to kill the Ranger on four separate occasions. Before coming into Maggie's town was one of them. Harper always traveled with a posse that laid down their lives for the man. LaBoeuf never understood why.

Harper's hate for LaBoeuf wasn't groundless—but it still didn't warrant a death. Harper was from Texas, also. He and his wife were overtaken by bandits at his farm. A small group of Rangers came to aid, which were lead by LaBoeuf. Sadly, they couldn't stop the demise of Mrs. Harper and the arson of the farm. Harper blamed LaBoeuf for that.

Harper rode on a black horse—not unlike Mattie's old one—next to three other men. Harper pulled a pistol on LaBoeuf.

"Ya' took everthin' from me!" Harper screeched.

LaBoeuf sighed. He had heard this speech five times and counting. It's not that he didn't feel sorry for the poor bloke. It's just that everything gets old after a while.

Harper shot off a round at LaBoeuf. It pierced the ground a good five feet to his left. Harper couldn't hit the broad side of a barn in broad daylight. He was a farmer, not a fighter. However, he always insisted of shooting LaBoeuf himself instead of letting one of his posse do the deed.

Now that the four men had successfully caused a scene, the Ranger shot his round off at them, careful not to hit any one of them. Harper ordered a retreat and the Fantastic Four rode off.

LaBoeuf shoved his pistol back into his holster. The bystanders went back to whatever it was that they were doing before the disturbance, as if nothing had happened. LaBoeuf began to walk briskly toward the general store.

Inside, Mattie already was waiting at a table. Mattie, who had lost track of time only to realize that she had about twenty minutes to meet LaBoeuf, wore her hair down instead of taking time to do something with it. LaBoeuf noticed that it was shorter than the last time he saw her, waving down only to her shoulders. He also noticed that it darkened, reaching an almost soft black.

She smiled as he sat down. "Get lost?"

He smirked, his usual air of confidence back. "Maybe." She didn't have to know about his confusing life affairs.

The menu was posted on a large chalkboard in the front of the room. As the two studied it, LaBoeuf spoke.

"So there's been no one? Ya' didn't find one man that caught your fancy?"

As much as Mattie wanted to smack him for continuing to bring up this subject, she said, "Well, there was one man…"

That caught LaBoeuf off guard. He had honestly expected there to be no one. He didn't know why he expected this—Mattie was young, pretty, and intelligent—maybe it was more of a hope that there wasn't anyone.

Did he just think that?

"Who?" LaBoeuf demanded.

Mattie paused. "A drifter. Came into town like a snowstorm. I swear, he was just like D'Artagaun, right outta Dumas."

LaBoeuf didn't say another word. He just kinda sulked a bit.

Mattie didn't find the conversation about past love lives all that interesting, so she changed the subject. "I traveled around a bit. I saw the Pacific Ocean. It was the grandest thing I've ever seen."

LaBoeuf had, admittingly, never seen the Pacific Ocean. He had seen pictures. That was the closet he had come.

"Wouldn't mind going," LaBoeuf was recovering from Mattie's blow. "Have ya' been safe?"

Mattie looked at him as if he had admitted to secretly being a dressmaker. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"Thank everythin'. Any suggestions for the food?"

Mattie placed their order while LaBoeuf studied her. Being preoccupied, he didn't notice what she ordered.

"Well?" Mattie asked after a long, drawn out silence.

"Well…?"

"Well, why are ya' here? Are ya' on a mission?"

LaBoeuf didn't answer immediately. He rubbed his mustache in thought, as if planning out what to tell this girl and what would be better left unsaid.

"I wanna hear everythin'," Mattie informed him.

"I figured ya' would." Doesn't mean he will tell her everything. "The basics of it are some man—we don't have the name but we have a picture," LaBoeuf passed her the photograph that he produced from his jacket. It was of a tall, tan skinned man with ginger hair. "He shot one of the Mansons."

Mattie gave him a blank stare.

"The Mansons?" LaBoeuf asked. "Anyone can tell that you're not a Texan. The Mansons are an extremely rich family. Wealthiest in the state, probably. Everyone in Texas knows them. Anyway, they are commissioning a rather fair amount of money for his capture."

"How fair?"

"Over five-hundred, fair."

"Oh, my. And you and that other Ranger—"

"Litrell."

"—are gonna split the money. Once ya' catch 'em."

"That's the plan."

"And here I thought you were a Ranger."

"I am a Ranger."

"You are a bounty hunter."

"That too," the smirk crossed his features again.

A pie was set in front of them, steaming and juicy looking.

"They have wonderful pies," Mattie told him.

"This hardly looks like dinner," he grinned and helped himself to the steaming goodness. It was blueberry. The blueberries rolled out of the crust, each one seeming to be perfect.

"Ya' heard me order."

Kinda.

Within a half hour, the rather large pie was demolished between the two of them. LaBoeuf paid and escorted his old friend out of the store.

Darkness had fallen on the town like a cloth over a bird cage. The air was perfect out—not too hot or too cold. The stars looked like sparkling sugar crystals over the black tapestry that was the sky. LaBoeuf instinctively hooked his left arm in hers.

"When do ya' plan on departing?" she asked suddenly.

"What, do ya' want me to leave?"

"I didn't say that."

"Do ya'?"

Mattie chewed on that question for a moment. "No. I don't think I do."

"You don't _think?"_

"I don't."

LaBoeuf was grinning a Cheshire cat grin. "I'm not sure when we have to go. I'm hoping our man will happen to walk into this town."

"Is that likely?"

"No. Not really."

"Then why are you here?"

They had arrived at Mattie's chestnut mare. LaBoeuf was about to answer, however something caught his eye.

"Mattie, go on home. I'll meet you there."

"What is it?"

"Go on."

Mattie nodded. She boarded her horse. LaBoeuf watched her ride East.

Huh. That was easier than he thought it would have been.

Striding down the stretch of dirt street, he saw the man again. _His _man. The ginger. He broke into a brisk walk, desperately trying to act casual. His had was on the smooth handle of his pistol as he advanced.

And the man was talking to some girl. Pretty looking, too. As he got closer, his stomach twisted into the tightest knot he had ever felt.

He was talking to Mattie.

He wanted to scream or yell at her to get away from him, that he was dangerous, or to ask her how the hell she rode past him when last he checked she was going east. However, if he did that, the man might shoot her or something. It was his personal experience that criminals are unpredictable.

As well was Mattie.

Here she was, laughing it up with his man. They talked for another five minutes. LaBoeuf dared not get close enough to hear what they were saying. Instead he sulked in the shadows.

Finally, it looked as though Mattie bid him goodnight. He kissed her hand, and she trooped off the porch they were standing on.

She strode right up to the shell-shocked Ranger, knowing right where he was hiding.

"What were ya' doin'?" he demanded.

"Somethin' a man can't. His name's Landon. Saul Landon. He owns some property east of here. His favorite color's purple and he enjoys ghost stories and hunting."

LaBoeuf's jaw hit the floor.

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews are loved and appreciated!<strong>


	3. The Burning of the Buckley Estate

"LaBoeuf!" Litrell called up into the attic, his voice fading into the blackness. "LaBoeuf, come quickly!"

LaBoeuf flung himself down the ladder and landed next to Litrell. "What?"

Mattie had appeared, listening to the conversation with interest, but not saying a word.

"It's the doctor's. Burned to the ground! And it's got Landon's name all over it."

The Rangers sped through the door, across the grass, and to the stable. Mattie was at their heels.

"Where do ya' think you're going?" LaBoeuf rounded on her.

"Well, look here, Ranger. The doctor was my friend—"

"You're not comin'."  
>Mattie looked to Litrell for aid. She looked so desperate that the man's heart softened.<p>

"It wouldn' _hurt_ if she came…"

"You're on _her _side?"

"Well…"

"Litrell!"

"Yeah."

And so, Mattie joined the two Rangers. They galloped for maybe five miles until they reached their destination—Doctor Buckley's estate.

Buckley wasn't rich by any means, but he was richer than the farmers that surrounded him. He was the only doctor within a thirty mile radius, save for what Mattie knew from his teachings, and was all in all a good man. Mattie had instantly taken to him, possibly because he reminded her of Rooster.

The house was scorched. It wasn't a house anymore. It was a black char mark on the ground. Evidently, all able bodied men from around the area built up to a small army that combated the fire with buckets of water from the river. They were a bit late for the house, but they kept the fire from spreading.

"I'm gonna go see the town—see if he's still in the area," Litrell said to LaBoeuf when Mattie had gone off to talk with the doctor. The Rangers split. LaBoeuf was left staring at the wreckage alone.

Not that there was much to stare at. It looked like any black scorch mark in the middle of the grass.

He felt a hand on his arm and looked over to Mattie.

"Why would he do this to the doctor?" she asked.

LaBoeuf sighed. "We thought this might happen, which was why we came to this town. He probably was planning on killing the man. The doctor over there was married to Landon's sister. He blames the doctor for the fallout of the marriage which lead to her suicide. Blew 'er brains out. It was quite nasty—not pretty at all…"

LaBoeuf stopped as he saw an intense rage settle over Mattie's features.

"What?" he asked.

"Ya' _thought this might happen_?" she demanded.

"Yeah."

"Because you didn't share that little prediction, that man over there has lost everything he owns!"

"It really wasn' your business…"

"Yeah, it was my business! The doctor has been my friend for years! He's been there for me. Always. Unlike—," her voice faltered.

"Unlike me?"

Mattie clamped her mouth shut and strode back toward Buckley.

So the truth comes out. She was angry with LaBoeuf. He knew he probably should have sent word to her sometime though the past few years, but it never occurred to him that she would harbor ill feelings toward him if he didn't.

And how does one make up for eight years of silence? If you know, please contact LaBoeuf.

* * *

><p>As soon as he reached the dirt path leading into the town, he saw him. Harper.<p>

"Litrell!" Harper called. "Where is LaBoeuf?"

Litrell rolled his eyes. He had been friends with LaBoeuf for years, but it didn't come without discouragements. Discouragements like Harper. The man was the most annoying person Litrell had ever met. He would always come after LaBoeuf with a pistol, miss, then run away screeching the word 'RETREAT!' He was irritating at best.

"He, uh, left for the next town over!" Litrell called to Harper.

"No he didn'—he wouldn'!"

"Why not?"

"Because of that girl!"

Lightbulb.

Inside Harper's mind, he formed a devious plot to finally take revenge on LaBoeuf.

Litrell was getting slightly creeped out by how Harper kept rubbing his little hands together muttering 'girl, girl, girl, girl.'

"I'm gonna leave now," Litrell informed him.

"Girl, girl, Bye! Girl, girl, girl…"

Litrell strode past shops and taverns. The town seemed unusually quiet today, with only a few making the venture out to the streets. No ginger. No Landon.

Convinced that his man wasn't in town, he rode his spotted horse back on over to LaBoeuf.

Upon entering a five foot radius of a man, it was as if a storm cloud had fallen over them both.

"What's wrong?" Litrell asked.

"Nothin'," LaBoeuf snapped quickly.

_Oh boy._

Litrell looked over to Mattie, who was shooting little eye-daggers at LaBoeuf.

_Damn. _

"Anyway," Litrell continued. "Didn' see our man. Ran into Harper though. Again." Litrell relayed the conversation he had with the madman, including the part where he rubbed his little hands together deviously and muttered 'girl' over and over, not exactly discreetly.

Litrell listened halfheartedly.

"Alright. What happened?" Litrell demanded.

"Nothin'."

"LaBoeuf—,"

"Litrell—,"

"LaBoeuf, you are m' fellow Ranger and a good friend to me. But I swear, if you don't tell me what happened right now I will shoot ya'."

LaBoeuf sighed. "She's mad because I haven' been here for her for the pas' eight years."

"What brought this up?"

"I awakened a snake, sota speak."

"I see. And you're mad because…?"

"I'm mad because…well…"

"Well…?"

"I'm mad because she's mad."

"You, LaBoeuf, are mad because she's right. Her anger isn't groundless, an' ya' know that."

LaBoeuf looked up at him through clear, sapphire eyes. "And so what do I do?"

"Start with forgiving yerself. She may jus' follow suit. An' apologize, will ya'?"

Litrell boarded his horse and galloped away, leaving LaBoeuf slightly agape. Litrell's pretty wise when you get to know him.

He strode up to Mattie, who was still speaking softly with Buckley. She threw a glare at the Ranger as he neared the group.

"Mattie—,"

Glare.

"I'm sorry."

Glare.

That didn't go as well as he had hoped.

* * *

><p><strong>*cough* *cough* Review! *cough* *hint hint* *nudge nudge*<strong>


	4. Rosy and the Villainous Feinds

Mattie liked kittens. She always had. She wasn't crazy about dogs, but cats, she liked. So when some mysterious, shady man stopped her when she was coming home from the general store alone at nightfall with the offer of a small kitten, she stopped to hear him out.

"Her name's Rosy. She's three months old," the man told her.

"She's beautiful," Mattie breathed, scratching the cat behind her ears. She plucked the tabby from the stranger's hands and held it in her own.

With the rhythmic pattern of petting the small creature, she had a flashback of the previous thirty minutes.

_"You're bein' a damn child about the eight years, Mattie!" LaBoeuf screeched at her. Maggie Ross was out tending to animals and Litrell was nowhere to come to her aid. Her brother and sister were assisting her mother._

_ "I'm bein' a child? Mr. LaBoeuf, you are uncouth and presumptuous—,"_

_ "And completely right!"_

_ "You fools always think you're right." _

_ "Us fools?" _

_ "You Ranger folk! So full of yerselves, ya' are! Well, let me tell ya' something, mister. You're not that great!"_

_ LaBoeuf's face twisted in fury. "I'll not be insulted by a little girl!"_

_ "I am not a 'little girl'! Not anymore, and you'll not treat me like one!"_

_ "Oh yeah?"_

_ "Get out!"_

_ LaBoeuf froze, unsure of what to say now. Hesitantly, he replied, "is that what ya' want?"_

_ Mattie in turn paused. "Yes! No! I don't know! Jus', leave me alone!"_

_ And with that, the young woman burst out of the house and flew over to her horse. She didn't really know what exactly she was going to do from there, but she decided she would get tomorrow's shopping out of the way._

_ By the time she reached town, it had gotten dark. She was too angry to be frightened of being out, alone and vulnerable._

"She needs a good home," the man said, jerking Mattie back to the present. Mattie knew that the farm would always be in need of cats, so she agreed to take the kitten. Plucking up her grocery bag from off the dirt street, she placed the kitten in it. She who peeked his little head out over the brown paper, and only her ears were visible to the passing bystander.

Mattie turned to leave, but slammed into a brick wall. A brick wall that was a man.

"Where do ya' think yer' goin', Miss?" the wall-man-thing asked.

Mattie looked back to the man that had given her the kitten for help. He was smirking, not lifting a finger to stop the man.

No one was out on the streets, not at this time. Mattie looked around. There was no one to call for help.

As mentioned previously, Mattie had learned to fight. She had learned to fight by an Indian man who had created his own martial art. However, with her small body she could only take on maybe one full sized man. Three more backed up the wall.

Mattie dropped the grocery bag and the kitten as they seized her.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, LaBoeuf was bitching to Litrell.<p>

"And so then she goes running off into the night!" LaBoeuf finished his story.

Litrell glared at him.

"What?"

"This's your fault."

"How?" LaBoeuf demanded.

"You are the man. You are also the elder."

LaBoeuf answered with a sigh.

"How long's she been gone?" Litrell asked.

"Goin' on an hour."

"Maybe ya' should go looking for her."

"She wanted to be alone."

"Or so she said."

Understanding flickered in LaBoeuf's eyes. "You're a wise man, m' friend."

"I try."

LaBoeuf was a little foggy on the entire voyage from the loft of the house over to the stable and onto his horse, but he found himself sitting atop his painted pony. He rode off, searching the back roads that wound around the town in the dark to even the town itself. He didn't find anything whatsoever that even remotely showed signs of Mattie. The strangest thing he came in contact with was a spilled grocery bag and some stray kitten.

Giving up an hour later, he rode back to the house in hopes that she had come back.

He was wrong.

By now, LaBoeuf was starting to panic, Maggie Ross was asking questions concerning her daughter, and Litrell was downing whiskey by the bottle.

Litrell and LaBoeuf assured Maggie that they would find her daughter and rode out into the blackness that engulfed them like some dark fire.

They searched in vain.

* * *

><p><strong>Pretty please with little LaBoeuf and Rooster sprinkles on top review!<strong>


	5. Home Bound

Mattie, who was blindfolded in some unknown place at the time, heard a voice.

"I've got the girl! Now I can finally take revenge on LaBoeuf!"

Mattie instantly hated the voice—it had an annoying, weasel like tune to it.

"Who's there?" Mattie demanded.

"Name's Harper, Miss." He said this like she should know the name.

Mattie had never heard of anyone named Harper. "Who?"

"Ya' know…LaBoeuf's mortal enemy? The dispute of his existence? His only fear?"

Mattie blinked inside the blindfold. "He never mentioned ya'…"

"I'm sure he has. He probably looses sleep over me every night."

Mattie rolled her eyes, though still blindfolded. This man sounded like a fool. "Nope. Sorry."

"Well, Miss, ya' must have either forgotten or he was trying to protect ya' from me. Well, stupid thing for him to do, letting ya' go out alone and walk right into m' men's trap."

"Well, ya' want revenge. Kill me."

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no!" Harper flung off her blindfold in a flourish so Mattie could see him. He was holding up two gowns. "That's not my intent, pretty lady. Now, which dress do ya' like better? The blue or the green?"

* * *

><p>LaBoeuf was nearing heart-attack state. It was in the wee hours of the morning and still there was no sign of Mattie.<p>

Though he wouldn't admit it to anyone, he was screaming at himself,_ YOU'RE AT FAULT!_

Maggie was worried. Mattie's siblings were worried. LaBoeuf was beyond worried. And Litrell was pretty dang worried himself.

If he hadn't started that fight…

Hell, if he had just written to her over the past eight years…

_YOU'RE AT FAULT!_

Litrell had suggested that the Rangers split up so to cover more ground. LaBoeuf agreed, seeing the idea as a logical one.

Breaking away from his mini-posse, he rode on into the town. He spotted something in the alley that he hadn't before—something promising—Mattie's horse!

He raced toward it, narrowly avoiding causing a few wagon wrecks on the way over. He bounded into the alleyway.

The horse was without Mattie. Instead, a shady man that was stroking a kitten stood up from behind the horse.

"Who're you?" LaBoeuf demanded.

"I work for Harper. He means for me to tell you that he has your woman."

LaBoeuf groaned. Harper…

"Is she safe?" asked LaBoeuf.

"Yeah…for now!" the man seemed to be going for the dramatic effect a bit too strongly. LaBoeuf had had enough of Harper's idiotic plots to get revenge. And now the fool brought Mattie into the heart of it.

LaBoeuf flicked out a pistol. The man gulped.

"Where?" LaBoeuf demanded.

"Wh—where?"

"Where is she?" he cocked the piece.

Gulp. "She's in the old warehouse!" Swallow. Sweat.

LaBoeuf put the safety back on with a flick of his thumb. He shoved it into his belt. There was a pause between the two men where none spoke.

"You will perish ya' fiend!" the man yelled. "RETREAT!" and he ran the other direction, tripped, fell on his face, hopped back up, and ran again.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, Mattie stood with disbelief at Harper.<p>

"Ya' want m' to…?"

"Choose a dress."

"Right. Why exactly?"

"Because I want ya' to look nice fer our Ranger friend."

"No."

"What?"

"I am comfortable in the clothes that I am in."

"That wasn't the question. Blue or green?"

"No!"  
>"I'll make this easier on ya'. Here. Wear the blue one." Harper handed Mattie the blue dress. Mattie looked at it as though it was poison.<p>

"Come on, now."

"No!"

"Come on."

"You're the most foolish man I've ever met!"

"PUT ON THE DAMN DRESS!" Harper yelled. He whipped out a pistol and cocked it.

Mattie glared at him and grabbed the dress.

* * *

><p>LaBoeuf didn't waste time finding Litrell. He had to find this old warehouse of which the idiot minion spoke.<p>

He rode up and down streets, not seeing it and cussing.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, Litrell had come upon an old warehouse of the side of a back road. He entered it, calling Mattie's name.<p>

He heard a familiar, annoying voice.

"I recognize the Texas twang in his voice! It's him!"

Litrell clambered up the steps to where Harper's voice had come from. He came to a locked door.

"Harper!" Litrell called, pounding on the door. "Open up!"

Harper obliged. The door flung open. Harper's smile faded as he saw Litrell.

"Oh…Litrell…is LaBoeuf not with ya'?"

Ignoring Harper completely, Litrell pushed him aside and strode into the room. Mattie was sitting by the window looking bored as can be, wearing a pretty blue dress.

"Ya' gotta go get LaBoeuf, this trap's for him!" Harper told Litrell. He went on, babbling about how he had waited so long for this and yada yada. Mattie, fed up to the hairline, grabbed a piece of lumber that was cast aimlessly on the ground and whacked Harper in the forehead with it. Harper fell to the ground, out cold.

"That man is the most annoying person I've ever met!" Mattie yelled in frustration. "I thought he'd never stop ranting!"

Litrell smiled. He liked Mattie.

"Come on, now. Let's go home."

"Not entirely thrilled to go back there," Mattie said hotly.

"Why's that?"

"LaBoeuf."

There was a beat of silence. Mattie toed Harper, who showed no signs of waking up anytime soon.

"He's been real worried about ya'."

"I bet."

"I'm serious. He told me all about the fight the two of ya' had—he tells me most everything. I swear, that man's like a girl sometimes—and he feels real bad about it."

"Hunh."

"He does. He was also real impressed when ya' smuggled that information outta Landon."

"He acted mad."

"He's LaBoeuf," Litrell explained by means of explanation.

There was another beat of silence. The two stood awkwardly. Litrell broke it.

"And ya' know what else? He's head over heels for ya', Mattie."

"I bet," Mattie recycled her old sarcastic answer.

"He says he has been for a while. He didn't want to be arrested for 'molestin'' a child."

"Yeah, and now?"

"Now the fool has not the foggiest how to say it."

"Uh—huh."

"He liked how ya' how ya' ordered pie at the general store…he thinks it's sweet the way ya' ride a horse …he absolutely loves it when ya' call him 'Ranger'…"

That broke out a smile on Mattie's face.

"Ready to go home?" Litrell asked.

* * *

><p>Litrell had returned Mattie home and went to find LaBoeuf, who was still roaming the streets.<p>

"I'm looking for a warehouse," LaBoeuf informed him.

"No, you're not. You're going back to the Ross's."

LaBoeuf whirled on him. "And why is that?"

"Because that's where I just dropped off Mattie."

* * *

><p><strong>Review to celebrate Mattie's freedom!<strong>


	6. The End

"Nice dress," were LaBoeuf's first words upon entering the Ross's and seeing Mattie. Maggie and Mattie's siblings were gone somewhere unknown at the time now that Mattie had returned safely, and Litrell was retreating at a darn quick pace.

"Shut that cake-hole. I'm still mad at ya'."

LaBoeuf neared her. She gave him a questioning look that disappeared as his hands found her waist and drew her to him. She didn't protest.

"Got somethin' for ya'," LaBoeuf whispered into her hair.

"Huh?"

He waved two brightly colored pieces of paper in front of her nose. She drew away from him and snatched them in her pale hands.

Train tickets to St. Louis.

"Figured ya' had been everywhere out west of here. Time ta' see east," LaBoeuf explained.

A smile broke out on her face as he explained the details to her.

Suddenly, a familiar weasel-ish voice rang out from outside the house.

"LABOEUF! COME OUT HERE! I NEED—"

Another voice outside sounded. "Cousin? Is that you?"

"That voice sounds familiar," LaBoeuf muttered.

"Cousin! Help me! My mortal enemy is in that house!" Harper yelled to his cousin.

LaBoeuf sighed and strode out of the door. He sucked in some air as soon as he saw Harper's cousin.

Landon.

Shit.

LaBoeuf charged Landon who pulled out a pistol and missed. LaBoeuf had tackled Landon to the ground before he could cock the piece again.

"As a deputized Texas Ranger, I herby place ya' under arrest, Saul Landon, for the murder of Nathan Manson."

Saul groaned.

"Wha…what about me?" Harper asked pitifully. "Ya' should have tackled me. I thought I was your mortal enemy!"

Mattie picked up Landon's dropped pistol and wacked Harper in the head with the handle. He went down like a sack of flour.

**THE END**

Mattie : That's the end?

LaBoeuf : Yeah! Aren't ya' forgetting something?

Litrell : Something important?

Nomadic : well…

Litrell : Oh, c'mon! Everyone's been waiting this entire fanfiction for it!

Mattie : Yeah!

LaBoeuf : I agree!

Nomadic : But I already kinda ended it…

Mattie : Haven't ya' ever heard of epilogs?

Nomadic : Well, yeah, but…

LaBoeuf : Are ya' jus' gonna disappoint all of these here readers?"

Nomadic : Don't you dare guilt trap me, Mr. Ranger. I can send you straight to Canada with a few sentences—

LaBoeuf : *gulp* *cowering*

Litrell : There are Mounties there… *shiver*

Mattie : Two Rangers down. Impressive. Back to the original subject…

LaBoeuf : Yeah! C'mon! Please!

Litrell : Please?

Mattie : Please?

Nomadic : Oh, alright. Go ahead. Only because you said please.

LaBoeuf : *grabs Mattie, pins her against nearest convenient wall and kisses her passionately*

Nomadic : Happy now?

LaBoeuf : Ohh yeah.

Mattie : *nods*

Litrell : *sobbing* that was so beautiful!

**Sorry it took a few decades to update...I was accepted into this band and rehearsals are absolutly insane. Then I went out of the country. I really appreciate everyone who came along for the ride and I really hope this fanfic made you laugh!**


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